there's no end, there is no goodbye
by swishandflickwit
Summary: But that's the thing, he lived nigh three centuries without her. He'd lived in the shadows for so long he'd forgotten what it was like to truly bask in the light and to remain there. 4x22 speculation fic.


**Ok they're separated by the end of 4x22 (based on set pics and speculation) but what about when they're _reunited_?**

* * *

"Where have you been?" He asked as he waved tendrils of her hair between his fingers.

"I don't know," she said on an exhale.

Then she smiled and he had to squint against the brightness of it; with her golden locks, her emerald eyes and the sun cradling the back of her head, she was all light and he's pretty sure he's blinded. After all, where she was light, he was darkness and shadows and gods, he never stood a chance, didn't he?

She came to him when he was nothing more than a barrel of liquor and revenge-soaked flesh, thinking it would be enough to fill the aching pit where he figured his heart should be; when he believed he was nothing more than a ticking time bomb because all he could hear was this countdown in his mind that was in time with the slowing beat of his heart and all he could see was a combination of dust, red rage and his hook buried into scaly skin. Everything else in his periphery was just vague, forms of shadows through a haze of alcohol.

And then there was _her_.

She was the one sharp image amongst a crowd of blurred shapes (_I was hoping it'd be you_) and all she had to do was turn her piercing, knowing gaze at him and he was just _gone_ because she was utterly pure and radiant and kind and she just––-she really _looked_ at him, you know? She looked at him like he _wasn't_ a ticking time bomb, like maybe everything he touched wouldn't turn to ash (_Liam, Bae, Milah_), like he could actually _be more_ (_You could be a part of something_) and _gods_, that sort of knowledge and unreserved_ faith_ she had for _him_…

It was like drowning, but it was also like _breathing_ because finally, _finally_, he could _feel_.

(_I choose to see the best in you_

_And I you_)

And then she _vanished_.

(Not gone. She was never gone. Gone meant she wasn't coming back. Vanished implied that she had simply been… misplaced. Misdirected. Lost. Vanish meant that she could, _would_, come back because that's what they did, right? They came back for one another)

(_I came back to save you_)

(_Come back to me_)

Just like that, the shadows went at him with vengeance, angry that he dared left their presence for so long and the blurred shapes were back and the countdown in his head returned.

You'd think that her lack of presence in his life would be easier this time – this being the second time around – and in some ways, it was. He wasn't completely without her, as her spirit remained in the way Henry would smile in determination to get her back or the way Snow White's dimpled chin would jut out when she spoke of her hope that they would see each other again or how the Prince would seek him and his ever trusty flask of rum out on particularly difficult nights.

And because of this, because of _them_, he didn't entirely succumb to the darkness. After witnessing Emma nearly descend to the same path, she deserved better from him than to fall into that particular tangled web of fallacy that she tried so hard to (and succeeded in, ultimately) refuse.

But the shadows… the shadows followed him everywhere.

(_Darkness is a funny thing, it creeps up on you_

_No one, not Rumplestiltskin or some Author, gets to decide who I am_)

So when they discovered a way to bring her back, it was a struggle to break away from the comfort his demons have always afforded him and an even bigger struggle not to let the hope overwhelm his entire being.

For as much as he believed she would come back, there was that persistent doubt in his mind that said he always, _always_ destroyed everything that he loved.

(_–I'm sorry_)

(_–I love you_)

(_–I need to do this, Killian. You know that right?_)

And perhaps it was unhealthy, to give so much of himself to one person that it felt like he was just _nothing_ without her.

But she isn't just any _one person_. She is _Emma_. And it's _her_ and it's _him_ and from the moment they met, were they ever really separate people right then?

(_Open book_)

(_You and I, we understand each other_)

But that's the thing, he lived nigh three centuries without her. He'd lived in the shadows for so long he'd forgotten what it was like to _truly_ bask in the light and to remain there.

But then she placed a hand on his chest, on the space where his heart lay, and his blood roared in his ears and his pulse beat strong and heavy because she came back and she is perfect and bright and driving the seemingly impending darkness from his sight and she is a reminder that he is _alive_.

So, to be sure, he asked her again, "Where have you been?"

She pressed her forehead against his and held him tightly to her like she was afraid that this time, _he_ would disappear.

(_I can't lose you_)

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she breathed. "I'm _here_. This is where I belong."

And with their fingers entwined and their hearts beating in time, he was quite inclined to agree.

"Aye. Welcome _home_, love."

* * *

**I've just about had enough of all the angsty separation fics. I just want them back together already and they haven't been separated yet.**

**Title based on the song Wait by M83 which I am _so _obsessed with and which you should totally listen to! It's amazing!**


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